My Gifts At 50

As I have mentioned a couple of times before, I'm turning 50. Soon. Like, day-after-tomorrow soon.

I have not made plans for a big blowout party, or really any plans to celebrate my birthday officially. What I will be doing on Friday is what I've been doing since last Thursday---taking care of my ill mother-in-law.

My MIL had a very extensive and significant surgery recently and SO and I will be rotating weeks to care for her. While this is a challenging time because we are supposed to be planning our wedding, not to mention that 50th birthday, it feels as if it's a gift of more import to me.

My own mother and I had a complicated and sad relationship, one that left me feeling "less than" in many ways and wondering about my sensitivity and worth as a person. With SO's mother it's not like that because I'm not her daughter, there are no agendas, points to prove, or struggles for power. Though I'm her daughter-in-law, we have more of a friend relationship. We like many of the same things and share some creative tastes, and engage in raunchy girl-talk (much to SO's chagrin).

When SO and I began talking about MIL's care, I wasn't sure how well I'd do; for the reasons mentioned above. I am learning that I am much more caring than I'd thought, more capable than I'd thought, more available to be leaned on emotionally and physically than I'd thought.

While I won't be at an evening soiree' like the one I had for my 40th birthday, or dancing around in a coconut bra and grass skirt at Joe's Crab Shack like I did about six years ago, I'll be doing something equally fulfilling; receiving confirmation that I've grown into a woman that can be depended on and can think of others first; a woman who can be a friend and companion; that maybe in some small way I've paid it forward so that someone can do the same for me one day.

I know I've become a woman of value; that's a fine birthday present if you ask me.

Never Too Late To Say Thank You

Most people know the importance of saying "thank you". We express gratitude when receiving gifts, when others do favors for us or somehow make our lives lighter, usually we do this in the moment or shortly after receiving the item and that's the end of it.

I have seen the occasional award show where an actor or actress after reading a long list of thank yous, adds their eighth-grade or high school teacher. I never really gave much thought to that additional thank you but lately, I've been having similar thoughts.

In 1973 I was a sophomore at St. Bernard's High School. I was a happy teenager clearly marching to the tune of my own drummer; managing to have a friend in mostly all the cliques without really being a member of any.

One of the classes I had was Behavioral Science with Cliff Nugent. Mr. Nugent only taught at St. Bernard's that one year, 1973, but his was the class I most looked forward to. In this class opinions ran wild and were encouraged, he promoted self-expression and seemed to revel in observing our developing personalities.

Once, when he informed us he'd be showing us the film "Night and Fog", a truly horrendous film about the atrocities perpetrated in concentration camps, the class went ballistic. No one wanted to see this film, though by this point in school, most of us had. People threatened to have their parents call the school, write letters, yada, yada, yada. He just smiled, rather like that cat in "Alice in Wonderland", and said if we could write a paper with a sufficient reason why we shouldn't have to see it, we'd be excused. No one wrote a paper with a sufficient reason, and we all watched it, and all survived.

Where I'm going with this whole thing is that Mr. Nugent made education fun, alive, and a thing to be desired in that room. I wanted to be there having fun, lively, sometimes even heated discussions with my classmates. I wanted to write those papers, read those books, study those concepts. I felt valued and respected by that teacher, and he made me want to learn.

So wherever you are Mr. Cliff Nugent from Fresno, thank you for that class in 1973. It's unlikely that I'll be winning an Oscar in this lifetime so this will have to do. I don't know if you continued to teach or where your life took you, but you had a gift for teaching that was magical and I'll always remember you and be grateful.